Natalia lays into me again immediately.
“My God, what an absurd narcissist you are. Sage may be free-spirited, but she’s a professional. There’s no way she’d tank her credibility or her chance at a drive with a top-three team just for a roll in the hay withyou, and it was disgusting of you to imply that’s what happened, just to make me jealous.” Her words hit with venom like a snakebite. “Grow the hell up, Klaus. Quit jerking people around, tormenting everyone just because you can’t make up your damned mind.”
She stands, chair stuttering back on the rough flagstones. I leap to my feet as well.
“Mymind?” I growl. “You’re playing the same fucking game. Your attitude toward me changes like the wind! Since you arrived this morning… back and forth, endlessly. One minute a hint of tenderness, then cold and snappish. A touch, then a retreat—”
“You’re the one who backed away frommelike I was toxic waste!”
Her eyes are bright with a sheen of angry tears. We glare at each other in stunned silence for the space of several breaths. With an exasperated sigh that’s almost a snarl, she snatches up her pen and legal pad, pivoting toward the patio door.
“Talia, please…” My voice is a rasp.
She freezes, half looking back, shoulders high and tight.
“Don’t walk away,” I urge. “Let’s start over.”
I study her profile as if I’ll never see it again—expressive lips, elegant bone structure, eyelashes clustered into dark, wet daggers with tears that shame me.
“We should… there’s… there’s food,” I manage, knowing I sound like a fool. I sweep a wave toward the table as if it will help.
The pen fumbles from her hand, smacking to the stone. Retrieving it, she rolls the barrel between her fingers.
“Perfect,” she sighs. “It’s cracked.” Stepping back to the table, she sets the pen beside her plate. “Another broken thing of mine I can leave with you. Enjoy.”
She slips into the house without another word. I sit, leaning my forehead on one hand for a long time, trying to decide whether I’m meant to go after her or leave her alone.
Sunset deepens around me. I rest my fingers on the side of the cloche over dinner—unglazed red clay with a delicate pattern—and feeling the warmth, think of Natalia’s hand over my heart earlier today.
Why did I step back?
I’m pulled from my musing by the sound of the Jaguar starting in the drive. I get up and walk to the front door to look out the narrow leaded pane, watching the taillights retreat. On the table beside the door is a note.
Took your car to the airport. I figured you wouldn’t mind—Sage was going to leave it there anyway. I’ll talk with Reece to reschedule if I can’t get Nefeli to reassign me.
Tell Elena the food was wonderful.
I fold the note and tuck it into my pocket, then walk to the guest room. There’s not a wrinkle on the bedspread or a dark hair in the en suite sink to suggest she was ever here.
But on the carved olive-wood dresser is the velvet box with the emerald necklace.
12
SANTORINI, GREECE
KLAUS
Hours later, I’ve shut down the house, caught up on some business correspondence, and am undressing for bed—chinos, bare feet, white linen shirt unbuttoned. I stand before the tall mirror near the window, staring impassively at myself as I undo my cuffs.
My right side is illuminated by the standing lamp nearest the bookshelves, and the effect—half golden, half shadow—seems fitting. My left eye is a hollow of darkness.
The trill of nighttime insects outside the open window is usually comforting, but tonight nothing soothes. The scent of orange trees drifts in, and the only thing it makes me think of is the fact that Natalia was gone before dessert was served.
Lovely house… empty, I taunt myself silently.Lovely life… empty.
I open the cuffs and slide the shirt off my shoulders when there’s movement behind me in the mirror’s reflection. Elena never comes into this part of the house at night, so my assumption isthat something is wrong. I turn, intaking a breath to ask what’s happened, and find Natalia framed in the doorway.
Flustered, she lifts one hand. “So, um…hi.”
